


Dropping the Curtain

by Luki



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luki/pseuds/Luki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, every child has to stop believing - one way or another.</p><p>But that doesn't meant Jack's going to let Jamie go without a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropping the Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> Should have known I'd end up writing angst for this fandom...
> 
> I have no idea where this came from. I just got it into my head that if all mythical beings were real and had to be believed in in order to be seen, maybe there were other forces in life that were around, but because they didn't have names, were never seen. And from this, came this somewhat dark oneshot.
> 
> Mostly involves a nameless OC, but the focus is mainly on Jack.

Her job was no less vital than that of the Guardians, or the nature spirits, or any other mystical force.  But that didn’t make her duty any easier to bear.

For a moment, she just stood outside the house, eyeing the window of her next target before glancing up at the moon.  Wrapped in thick black cloth, face hidden by the shrouds, she was often mistaken by other spirits as the Grim Reaper.  Ironic, and somewhat apt.

In another time, another life, perhaps things would have been different.  Perhaps he would have given her a name – a purpose other than this.

But this was her fate, and no more hers to change than the seasons.

She floated towards the house, gliding through the wall and stood by the sleeping boy.

Jamie Bennet.  Aged 14 and ¾.  Old, compared to most.  Considering the circumstances though, perhaps not.

Her left hand softly stroked his face, gliding towards his eyes.  In her sensitive fingers, she felt that precious strand form.  A little line of white thread, shining softly.

Such a small little thing – yet it held so much power.

She sighed, and from her robes pulled out her instrument of work.  A pair of gold scissors, sharp and fast, the two blades ensnaring the thread.

One little snip, and everything would change.  She made to cut-

And found she couldn’t.  The scissors were stuck, glimmering with ice that was quickly reaching up her hand.

The blades were yanked away, and she sighed.

“North said he would keep you occupied.”

  Jack Frost was a tense figure, crouched in the window sill.  She couldn’t see his eyes, but could feel them boring into her skull.

“I’m not an idiot” Jack snapped.  “And North really doesn’t know how to lie.  Get out of here.”

She shook her head, and hissed as a cold hand grabbed her shoulder and threw her through the wall.  There was barely enough time to brace for the crash, stopping in midair inches from the ground, while the frost sprite followed, the fern-like frost patterns flowing from his feet a telling sign of his feelings.

“You can’t have him” Jack snapped.  “I don’t care what the rules say.  Not yet.”

“This isn’t up for debate” she snapped right back.  “I have been lenient – Jamie was given a good 2 years of childhood innocence he shouldn’t have had.  Time’s up.”

Jack shook his head.  “No.  It doesn’t have to be this way.  Just...just let him be!  Let him decide when to grow up.  Kid’s do that all the time!”

“Believe me Jack” she began.  “If all children stopped believing when they were still children, I would not exist, and I don’t doubt that would be a better world.  But the fact of the matter, is Guardians are for children.  And it’s time for Jamie to grow up.”

Jack threw his hands up in frustration.  “He is growing up!” he yelled.  “Every day he’s growing up!  You think I don’t see it?  I’ve watched every tooth, every Christmas, counted every inch...you don’t have to stop believing in order to grow up.”

“No” she agreed.  “But you do if you want to become an adult.”

Jack looked ready to argue, but she pressed on.

“Tell me Guardian.  You who have watched him all these years.  Who have seen his friends move on, or have had the curtains fall on their minds by my blades.  How many still speak to him?  How much does he have in common with them?  When girls walk by, does he pay attention?”

The winter sprite looked torn, and she continued.

“He has few friends but you now, am I right?  And those who understand him are all younger.  People around him talk, his parents have hushed conversations in their room, questioning his ‘development’.  Believing in you gave him strength once, but now it cripples him.

By being part of his life Jack, you are cutting him off from the rest of it.”

The frost sprite clenched his hands.

“It’s not that bad.  Jamie doesn’t even notice...”

“Doesn’t he?”

Jack glared.  “Jamie is _happy_.”

“Is he?  Or is that just what you want to see?”

Jack looked away, hands crossing as if to ward away the words.  But she could see the doubts crossing his mind.  The afternoons where he’d find Jamie walking alone where there had once been a crowd.  The pouting frustration when he heard whispers and taunts slipping from the mouths of classmates...and the hidden fear of isolation in the corner of his eye, that not even the greatest snowball could disperse...

“I know he was your first.  It’s why I gave you more time.  But now it’s time to let go Jack.”

Minutes passed, and when he finally spoke, Jack’s voice was shaking.

“You can’t take him.  Not yet.  Please...one more day.  Just one.  Let me say goodbye.”

The pleading in his voice was painful, ripping at her heart, but she stood strong.

“It will hurt you both twice as much if he knows its happening.  Shedding one’s belief isn’t something that should be conscious.  One shouldn’t be able to pinpoint the time they stopped believing.”

The Guardian seemed lost in thought, and she took the chance to float back up to the room again, testing the scissors, now free from the frost.  By the time she’d found the thread, Jack was back in the window, watching her with broken eyes.

“...Will it hurt?”

Her head shook.  “No.  When he wakes up, he won’t even notice anything is different.”

“But he won’t see me anymore” Jack replied bitterly.

“You will be a passing memory” she agreed.  “Something to look back on and remember fondly, to indulge in with his sister, and pass on to his children.  But never anything more than a daydream, one he kept going a little longer than he should.”

The tears were clearly being held with nothing more the stubbornness, and she turned her attention back to the sleeping boy.  In a few short seconds, the scissors snipped, and the thread snapped in two, losing its sheen.  To the eyes of both spirits, a heavy curtain seemed to fall across the boy’s eyes, before vanishing into the ether.

From this day on, the world of fairies, sandy dreams and winter spirits that brought the greatest snow days would be forever hidden from him.  Outside of passing nostalgia, he wouldn’t miss it – not for the world that its loss had opened for him.

The choked sob from behind brought her attention back to the other spirit, and she turned in time to watch Jack leap out the room.  She quickly followed, hoping to at least spot the direction he would bolt in order to send someone he trusted more after him.  But instead found him huddled by the garden gate, struggling to stop the tears in vain.

“How can you just do it?” Jack asked, once he realised she wasn’t leaving.  “How can you just...kill someone’s innocence and walk away?”

She shrugged.  “It was hard at first.  It still is...hard.  But I’ve seen what happens to children who don’t stop believing Jack.   _Killing_ their innocence, as you put it, saves them and gives them a future.  Children are allowed to believe in magic and Guardians and happily ever afters.  Adults...need to live in reality, or they can’t live at all.  This is the world we live in.”

“Bull” Jack hissed.  “North-“

“YOU never stopped believing Jack” She interrupted.  “Eighteen and still full of childish belief.  What did it get you?  300 years of loneliness, a pawn in some up high immortal’s game. “

Jack froze. 

“If...if Jamie hadn’t stopped believing...then he would have...”

She shook her head again.  “Doubtful.  There have been others who never stopped who weren’t chosen, but their lives were rarely pleasant.  But if he had...would you have wanted it?  To bestow him with the same life you led?”

The Guardian looked away.

“No.  Not on anyone.”

She crouched beside him, hesitantly placing one hand on his shoulder.  “Leave this town.  Go to North, or  Sandman or the Tooth Fairy or even the Rabbit you love to fight.  Fly to somewhere snowy and spend a few months there.  This will hurt, but in time it will heal, and you’ll move on too.”

Jack wiped the frozen tears on his sleeve.  “Know from experience huh?”

He winced when the hand tightened.

“I don’t have believers.  You need a name to have believers.”

“I’m sorry...”

The hand loosened, and she sighed before standing.  “Ask your fellow Guardians.  They’ve been here before.  Losing your first...losing any of them...there’s a reason they all live hidden away in the far corners Jack.  It’s because they can’t bear to watch.  One day you might have to do the same.”

She began to step away.  The night was young, and the elder Bennet was not the only child on her list, but froze when a cold hand grabbed her wrist.  Jack had made to get up, and used her as leverage to stand.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked, curiosity and no small part horror in his face.  She shrugged.

“After your time” she admitted.  “But not by many moons.”

“You really don’t have a name?  No one to see you?”

The laugh was harsh and biting.  “Guardian, those who see _me_ , immediately lose the ability once they have done so.  There are no stories of monsters that come in the night and steal a child’s innocence – no adult would tell their child such a tale, and no child wants to hear it.  I can’t be seen, I never will be seen, and I never _should_ be seen.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

She didn’t answer at first.  Instead, one hand pulled away the hood, while the other tugged away the shroud on her face, allowing the frost sprite to see her face.

And the eternally flowing tears that fell from her eyes, betraying the smile on her face.

“No.  But that’s the way it is.”

And with that, pulled back her coverings, and faded into the night, ignoring the frost sprites calls.

There were other children to save, after all.


End file.
